Being immersed in a high school scholarly environment brings with it imports from higher academia. Namely Advanced Placement, College in the Schools, and whatever other fancy programs that woo hordes of prospective Handsome Dans and Hoyas. In these upper-level intellectual circles, students pine over the elements of the coherent essay, strive for SAT scores that begin with a 2, and are encouraged by their teachers to do something called critical thinking of which the definition presently escapes me. Without a doubt, being around these cerebral types pushes one to reevaluate their own noodle or light bulb; their relative sharpness in that hypothetical toolshed. But in the midst of all this self-doubt and scrutiny, I hear multiple times during a classmate's PowerPoint when they come to Japanese words:

"I have no clue how to say that, not even gonna try."

Lo and behold, at the end of my presentation on Pre-Contact Hawaii, which included such Hawaiian terms as ali'i, kapu, kahuna, maka'ainana, kaua, 'okina, and ahupua'a; the whole room was in awe. "You seemed so comfortable with the words!" "You didn't hesitate at all!" Yes, I am purported by my peers and family to have above-average word-related expertise; but I can not for the life of me understand why standards aren't higher in this area. Of course, passing on a pronunciation is acceptable every now and then. That is if the word is isolated and unexpected in its context, or if the word is Vijayanagar (Say it. See?). But if a presentation revolves around Feudal Japan and its cultural facets, poor pronunciation of foreign words or none at all comes off as rather lackadaisical.

Maybe Americans have cut themselves off from the burden of saying a word correctly because they are afraid of being judged or sounding silly. I can actually attest to that: although I can say the word humuhumunukunukuapua'a (Hawaii state fish); repeatedly uttering it with flawless Hawaiian pronunciation while snorkeling would come off as awfully pretentious. My Dad, at times, doesn't pick up on this faux pas. He insisted on pronouncing Les Misérables the French way each and every time he said it during my brother's run in the show; much to my mother's chagrin. Correct use of language is a virtue, but overly correct use of language can every so often prove to be, well, uncalled for. Be that as it may, the threat of the know-it-all curse is not the root of America's pronunciation crisis. I have this uncanny hunch that most Americans just don't know any better. And I guess that's not a completely negative thing; nor is it unique to us. A native German speaker could be pondering these same notions. Every human being is, after all, a product of the society that they grew up in. Foreign items in a culture are just that—foreign. They are more often than not difficult to comprehend, appreciate, and, in the case of words; pronounce with outright precision.

With that said, correct pronunciation is a pretty cool thing. Heck, a whole chapter could be dedicated to it in How To Impress People 101. Cultivating good pronunciation habits is a worthwhile endeavor and just may carry you a bit closer to being that savvy, sharp-witted, adroit academic that you've always dreamed of being.